A/N:based this chapter off of a Darth Maul comic I read where Sidious did the same thing to Maul leaving him to drown all cuz Maul started to like Sidious which he didn't like and it was a way to teach him that he's not his friend he's supposed to hate him.
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The silence of space was suffocating. The ship moved through the void like a specter, carrying only two passengers—Master and Apprentice. Adam stood in the center of the chamber, his arms crossed behind his back, his mind racing with thoughts he dared not voice.
Sidious had been unusually quiet since they departed from the fleet, his wrinkled fingers tapping idly against the armrest of his throne-like chair. Dooku's report had reached him, and now Adam was to be *tested*. He didn't know what this "lesson" entailed, but he knew better than to assume it would be easy.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his master spoke.
"Darth Venator… tell me, do you know why we are here?"
Adam kept his posture firm. "No, my master."
Sidious hummed in amusement, standing slowly as he stepped toward the viewport, watching as the swirling void of hyperspace collapsed into reality. A frozen wasteland stretched beneath them—a planet Adam recognized instantly.
**Hoth.**
A bitter chill seemed to seep into his bones just from looking at it.
"I have been… *concerned* about you, my apprentice," Sidious continued, his voice thick with amusement, yet tinged with something deeper. "Count Dooku has informed me of your *hesitation* back on Geonosis. Your unwillingness to act without question."
Adam clenched his jaw.
"That was not hesitation, my master," he replied carefully. "It was merely strategy."
Sidious turned his head slightly, his yellowed eyes gleaming. "Strategy… is it?" He let the word roll off his tongue like venom. "And tell me, my apprentice, did *hesitation* not also cloud your mind when you bled your first crystal? When you took your first life?"
Adam remained silent.
Sidious took another step forward. "You *question* the Sith. You *question* the dark side. You wonder if there is another way." He let out a slow chuckle. "You still cling to foolish hope."
Adam's fingers twitched.
The Sith Lord turned fully, his presence suffocating. "You must learn, my young apprentice, that there is only *one* truth in this galaxy—**power.** And power belongs only to those willing to take it. To those willing to cast aside weakness."
He gestured toward the viewport, and the ship tilted slightly, the frozen planet growing larger.
"It is time for your final lesson."
Adam's muscles tensed. "What lesson?"
Sidious merely smiled.
Moments later, Adam stood in the cargo bay, the freezing air from the open hatch biting at his exposed skin. The ship hovered just above the frozen ground of Hoth, the endless white stretching out in every direction. The howling winds echoed like whispers of death.
His master stood before him, hands clasped beneath his robes, his expression unreadable.
"Strip."
Adam blinked. "…What?"
Sidious' expression darkened. "Take off your clothes. Everything."
A chill crawled down Adam's spine, though not from the cold.
Slowly, he complied, undoing the clasps of his tunic and pulling off each layer. The cold hit him like a shockwave, his breath instantly turning to mist. He stripped down completely, his body already trembling from the exposure.
Sidious held out a hand. "Your weapon."
Adam hesitated—only for a fraction of a second—before handing over his lightsaber. He felt *naked* in more ways than one.
He looked at his master, his brows furrowing. "What am I supposed to do here?"
Sidious smiled. A wicked, twisted smile. And then—he laughed.
The sound was cruel. Mocking.
"*Survive.*"
Before Adam could react, an invisible force struck him in the chest, sending him flying backward. His stomach lurched as he plummeted through the freezing air.
He crashed into the snow below with a harsh *thud*, the impact jarring every bone in his body. The cold burned against his skin like fire, his breath hitching as he struggled to push himself up.
Above him, the ship hovered for only a moment longer.
Then it turned.
And left.
Adam's breath caught in his throat. His mind refused to process what had just happened.
His master had abandoned him.
His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his own flesh as he forced himself to his feet. The wind howled around him, cutting through his exposed skin like daggers. His entire body was shaking violently.
He forced himself to take slow, even breaths.
**No. This isn't how I die.**
He turned, scanning his surroundings. The snow was endless, the sky above a pale gray. There was nothing. No shelter. No warmth.
**Think. Think.**
His survival instincts kicked in. The dark side of the Force was his only ally now. He reached into it, drawing from his anger, his pain. It dulled the cold slightly, but it wouldn't last forever.
He needed shelter. Now.
His feet dragged through the knee-deep snow as he forced himself forward. Every step sent sharp, burning pain through his legs, his body threatening to collapse under the weight of exhaustion.
The wind howled in his ears, whispering cruelly.
*You are nothing.*
*You are weak.*
*You will die here.*
He bared his teeth, his anger fueling him forward.
"I'll show him," he muttered under his breath. "I'll show *all* of them."
Hours passed. Maybe more. He didn't know. His vision blurred, his fingers numb beyond feeling. The cold was relentless, a beast gnawing at his very soul.
Then—he saw it.
A cave.
His legs nearly gave out as he stumbled toward it. The inside was dark, the ceiling lined with jagged icicles. He collapsed against the wall, his breath ragged.
He had made it.
But he wasn't safe yet.
A deep growl rumbled from the shadows.
Adam's breath hitched.
Then—red eyes flickered in the darkness.
A wampa.
The beast lunged.
Adam barely had time to react. His body screamed in protest as he rolled to the side, the creature's massive claws slashing the air where he had been moments before.
He had no weapon. No armor.
But he had the Force.
Reaching out, he clenched his fingers, wrapping the dark side around the wampa's throat. The beast thrashed, roaring in defiance, but Adam didn't let go.
His anger swelled. His hatred burned.
And with a final twist—he *snapped* its neck.
The body crumpled to the ground.
Silence.
Adam stood there, panting. His entire body was trembling, not just from the cold, but from something deeper.
Sidious had done this to him.
Left him to die.
Treated him like an *animal*.
His hands curled into fists.
His master wanted to break him? To make him surrender fully to the dark side?
Then fine.
Let the dark side take him.
Because when he *did* return, when he stood before Sidious once more—
He was going to make him *pay.*
The wampa's corpse lay still, its massive form partially covered in ice and blood. Adam stood over it, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His body trembled violently from the cold, the dark side only barely dulling the pain of exposure. He needed warmth. Shelter alone wouldn't be enough—his body was already beginning to shut down.
His gaze hardened as he looked down at the beast. It would have killed him without hesitation. Now, it would serve him.
He knelt beside the corpse, his fingers numb as he reached for one of its massive arms. A deep breath, then he called upon the dark side, channeling what little energy he had left into his hands.
With a swift motion, he slashed his fingers across the wampa's flesh, using the Force to tear through the thick hide like a blade. Blood oozed from the wound, steaming in the freezing air. Adam ignored the stench, ripping and peeling away at the fur with methodical efficiency. His movements were driven by pure survival instinct now.
It took longer than he expected, but eventually, he had enough to wrap around himself. He pulled the fur over his shoulders, shivering as the warmth of the beast's hide settled against his skin. It was still wet, but it was better than nothing. He wrapped it tightly, securing it as best as he could.
The cold still bit at his exposed skin, but it was manageable. For now.
Next, he needed food.
His eyes drifted to the wampa's flesh. Raw. Uncooked. He had no fire, no tools. Eating it raw could kill him, but starvation would do the same. He had to figure out how to cook it.
Adam sighed, closing his eyes as he reached out with the Force. He focused on the air around him, the cold, the wind—he needed to generate heat. The Sith could create fire, but he had never practiced it. Now, he had no choice.
He clenched his fists, concentrating, trying to summon the heat he so desperately needed.
Nothing.
Frustration boiled within him.
*The Jedi taught you nothing. The Sith teach through suffering. Learn. Adapt. Survive.*
His hands shook as he focused once more, drawing on his anger, his hatred—toward his master, toward himself, toward the *galaxy* for throwing him into this nightmare.
Then—heat.
A spark of warmth ignited within his palms, flickering faintly before vanishing.
Adam growled in frustration. Again.
The spark returned, stronger this time.
He clenched his jaw.
*More.*
The small flame flickered to life in his hands, dim and unstable, but it was fire. Real fire. His lips curled into a small, victorious smirk.
He would survive. No matter what it took.
---
**Meanwhile, aboard a Trade federation ship…**
Count Dooku stood in the dimly lit chamber, hands clasped behind his back as he faced his master. The hum of the ship's systems filled the silence between them. Outside, the stars stretched infinitely, uncaring of the dark games being played within the galaxy.
Sidious sat upon his throne, his expression unreadable, fingers steepled beneath his chin. His hood cast shadows over his sunken, wrinkled face, but his piercing yellow eyes gleamed with amusement.
Dooku's voice broke the silence.
"Was this wise, my lord?"
Sidious chuckled softly. "You doubt me, Lord Tyranus?"
Dooku's gaze remained steady. "You have thrown the boy onto a frozen wasteland with nothing but his will to survive. Even Maul was given a *chance* before being cast aside. If he dies—"
"He will not." Sidious' voice was absolute. "Venator is… *unique.*"
Dooku raised a brow. "Because of his origins?"
"Because of what he *can* become," Sidious corrected. "The boy still clings to foolish notions of choice. Of morality." He sneered. "Even after bleeding his crystal, after slaughtering his enemies, he *hesitates*."
The Sith Lord's voice grew darker.
"But after this?" A slow, cruel smile spread across his lips. "He will lose all hope. He will become what we need him to be."
Dooku exhaled through his nose, clearly unconvinced. "And if he survives, but remains resistant?"
Sidious chuckled again, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.
"Oh, my dear Tyranus…" His smile widened. "Then we shall break him again."
The cold was merciless. The dark side was eternal.
And Adam no Venator would soon learn that there was no escape.